I’ve been discovering Tinder. It’s kind of my dream app. I’ll be curious to see where it leads, but, in 24 hours, here are the highlights, as well as some observations about the app itself. First, the app:

I have the sense that it was designed by addiction researchers. It’s nearly impossible to put down, it’s incredibly compelling, and it’s brilliant in that it’s constantly stimulating your (my) reward centers and never communicating rejection.

If you’re not familiar with it, this is how it works:

Somehow, it interacts with your Facebook account to generate a never-ending stream of women (or men). It allows you to select up to six photos from your FB account to present on the app, as well as a small number of words (a few more than 140 characters, it seems). And then, the fun begins.

With each photo, you decide if you want to “like” or “reject” the candidate. You can look closely – read the text, if there is any, look at all the photos. Or, you can just decide instantly, on the basis of the “cover” photo. You can either swipe – right to “like,” left to “reject,” or you can tap the “X” or the heart.

That’s it. You do that, over and over, and then, the matchmaking starts.

Women (if you’re me) see your picture(s), and they decide whether to accept or reject you (me). If there’s mutual acceptance, you both get a message, and, 99% of the time (of course), it’s on the boy to initiate contact.

What’s brilliant about this is the way they handle rejection.

First off, there’s no way to go back and see whom I “liked.” So there’s no mounting tally of the hundreds and thousands of women who rejected me. Second, when a woman with whom I’m interacting (like Alex, a 21-year-old flirt with whom I had an extensive flirtation last night, until she realized I was married) decides she’s done? She just blocks me, and the whole conversation is gone, as is the contact in my little contact list. No notification, no nothing. So it’s almost like the rejection didn’t even happen.

It’s brilliant. And there’s fairly frequent notifications of mutual likes. I don’t know if that’s because of my brilliant selection of photos (see right), or the population, or what. But on OKC, I can spend months and lots of energy trying to scare up even a single date. On Tinder, I managed to have lunch, today, with someone I met last night (or was it this morning?). I hope to tell you more about her soon. For now, suffice it to say, she’s hot, and fun, and though we barely brushed skin, she told me her clit was throbbing during the lunch. I told her what I want to do to her. I told her when. And she’s mulling it over. Generally, she’s not a fan of the “casual” (by which she means, with someone with whom she’s not in love). But her clit was throbbing….

And over the course of the evening, there were a bunch of fun and promising flirtations. There were more than the ones I’m listing here – these are just the last few…. I’m reluctant to rank them in any way, other than, I suppose, in descending order of whose mouth is most likely to be wrapped around my cock soonest.

First? A woman with whom I’d actually been on a date previously, whom I hadn’t fucked for tragic reasons having nothing to do with either her desire for me or mine for her, and whom I will, soon, put to good use.

Second, the one I’m scheduled to meet tomorrow. (Ok, maybe just because of the timing, she should be first. I don’t know.)

Third, the one who said she’d never have swiped me right had she been sober, and with whom I had a brief, but entertaining, discussion of sex addiction.

And fourth, Sondra, who messaged me, “Too bad I came across you AFTER I orgasmed.” To which I replied (of course), “ next time you should record it for me.”

There was a little back and forth, and then….

This arrived in my inbox. It’s short – only 20 seconds. You can make out the vibrator in the background. And she signed off for the evening, “And who knows… maybe one day you’ll be saying [my name] as I deep throat your cock. Night night.”